


Out Of The Cold

by borrowedphrases



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Mentioned Character Death, Minor Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been thirteen years, six months, two weeks, and three hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of The Cold

**Author's Note:**

> For Hanceome Week Day 5 - Time Swap
> 
> Just barely finished before midnight again, phew.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://borrowedphrases.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/borrowedphrases)

When Lance wakes from the cryopod he's disorientated, woozy, wobbly, and he can barely see. He can't remember _why_ he had to be put in the pod. When his legs start to give out strong arms wrap around his waist, and a vaguely familiar voice speaks gently near his ear.

"Whoa there, Lance, take it easy. You've been in there for a _long_ time."

Hunk, probably, judging by the size and shape of the arms wrapped around him.

"We're still not sure what sort of effects on human anatomy being in a pod that long will have, they were originally designed for Alteans, after all."

That one sounds _kind of_ like Pidge.

"Maybe he should sit down for a bit?"

Okay, Lance has _no_ idea who that voice belongs to.

After a few more moments spent blinking and leaning against Hunk, Lance can finally bring the room into clarity again. He can make out the other cryopods, and the control panel, and his team mates.

Except something is very very wrong.

Just in front of him stands who he assumes to be Pidge, except she looks like... well like a _woman_ , not like a teenager. Her hair is longer, and pulled back into a tight bun, like the kind Allura wears sometimes. She's dressed in something that vaguely resembles a Garrison uniform, only in green, and with more shape and flourish to it, possibly Altean inspired?

Lance gives her a once over with his gaze. "Pidge, you grew boobs."

" _Lance._ " Hunk's voice scolds him from behind.

"I go by Katie now." She says, her face passive, lips a thin line, though there's a hint of a smile in her eyes behind her glasses. 

A man steps up from behind her, wearing a similar uniform to Pidge- Katie, his in red. That's not where the similarities stop though. His hair's the same color as hers, and his eyes are near identical, glasses and all. Pretty much the only way they differ is by way of physical sex it seems, that and length of hair. He extends a hand toward Lance, and offers him a soft, warm smile. "I'm Matt, Katie's brother."

Lance accepts the offered hand with a limp shake, all he can muster, and nods a bit dumbly. He's still trying to process Katie, and how much _older_ she looks. Late twenties, probably, maybe early thirties. 

"C'mon, come sit down." Hunk starts to guide Lance over to a nearby chair, helping him sit and then moving around to kneel down in front of him. 

" _Hunk_." Lance whines softly, reaching out and cupping Hunk's face between his palms. His cheeks are still full, but there's a hardness to his jawline now, emphasized by short scruffy hair, like he hasn't shaved in days. His hair is the same length, but salt and pepper grey at his temples. Those aren't even the most startling thing about him. Instead of his ever present headband, Hunk now sports an eye patch covering his left eye. The lines of a jagged scar trace from his forehead, down behind the patch, and then over his cheekbone.

Lance reaches hesitantly to brush his fingers over the bottom line of the scar. "Hunk, what happened?"

"It's a long story." Hunk gives Lance the saddest smile Lance has ever seen on his face, and it just makes Hunk seem even more foreign to him, seem even more... _old_.

Lance swallows hard, feeling like the room is about to start spinning around him at any moment. He can barely make his voice work to form his next words, too scared to know the answer. But he needs to know. He has to ask. "How long was I in that pod?"

"Thirteen years, six months, two weeks, and three hours. Give or take." Katie supplies matter-of-factly as she pushes her glasses up her nose. 

"Give or take!?" Lance squeaks out, and now the room really is spinning, and he can't seem to draw in a full breath, his lungs feel squeezed shut, like they don't want to expand anymore, or like there's something lodged in his throat. His vision starts to tunnel, and he barely has the forethought to lean forward and put his head between his knees before he almost passes out completely. 

Strong arms wrap around him again, hauling him up a bit and letting his head come to rest on Hunk's shoulder. And it's not fair. Hunk shouldn't still _smell_ like Hunk after so long. He shouldn't look old and wounded and _hardened_ and still smell just like he did the last time he held Lance in his arms, which was apparently _thirteen_ years ago, _give or take_.

"I've got you, buddy." Hunk soothes, one hand gliding up and down Lance's back, like he always does when Lance is feeling overwhelmed, and Lance aches inside. He just aches inside thinking about how long it's been for Hunk since the last time he's done that for Lance.

The next thing Lance knows he's being swept up into those strong arms, one under his knees, the other supporting his back. Lance slides his arms around Hunk's neck, and curls forward, his head resting against Hunk's collarbones. Hunk is still large, still has weight around his middle, but he's also leaner, somehow, the muscles of his arms more defined. As Hunk carries him out of the cryo room and down the hall toward the Paladin quarters, Lance wishes desperately that he'd just wake up from this damn dream already. He doesn't want this to be real. He wants to go back to being eighteen again.

Oh.

"I'm still eighteen, aren't I?" Lance asks softly as Hunk steps into his bedroom. Not much has changed since the last time Lance was in there. It's still pretty simple, but there are more pictures on the walls, memories that Lance doesn't recognize. Memories that happened that he wasn't there for.

Hunk swallows hard, Lance can feel it against his forehead, and then he feels him nod a moment later. Lance closes his eyes, choking on a dry sob. Because it's not fair, none of this is fair. Why was he in cryo for so long? Why couldn't he have been fighting and aging along with his friends? Alongside Hunk?

Hunk settles Lance down on his bed, kneeling down in front of him and gazing up at him. He looks as earnest as ever, despite having only one eye now, despite looking older and harder and sadder. Lance notices now that he's wearing a similar uniform to that of Katie and Matt, only accented in yellow, and then something dawns on him.

He reaches to tug a little on Hunk's unbuttoned collar. "Matt was wearing red."

Hunk draws in a slow, even breath, settling his wide palms over Lance's thighs and holding his gaze steady. "We lost Keith shortly after Shiro died."

"Wait, what!?" Lance reaches down, covering Hunk's hands with his own and clutching tightly. "When? How?"

Hunk stays very still except for turning his hands over in Lance's lap and sliding them forward a bit, so he can grip Lance's wrists. "About a year after you went into Cryo. Shiro sacrificed himself so the rest of us could get out with all the lions, including Black. Allura pilots her now.

"Keith lost it after that." Hunk lets out an even sigh, and Lance know he's trying to keep his voice steady. He's doing a decent job of it too. "He just went nuts, and then he started to change. He became more violent, more aggressive, started taking more risks, started engaging in more brutal tactics in battle. Then one day he broke, and he... well, his Galra side manifested itself."

"Keith was Galra?" Lance feels dizzy again, feels the room start to darken and shift and swirl.

"Half." Hunk grips Lance's arms tightly, and Lance is grateful for the added stability. "The rage he felt over having to grieve Shiro a second time activated his latent heritage, or so Allura theorized, and his features changed. He was so much more vicious than the Galra we usually fight though, he was barely even sentient anymore, like a wild animal.

"After his change he didn't stick around long, took one of the pods and left before any of us could stop him. We haven't heard from him since. All we know is he didn't join up with the Galra, and he didn't go back to Earth." Hunk lets go of Lance's arms and turns to pull a water pouch out of a draw near his bedside. He pops the straw and hands it to Lance, then settles down next to him on the bed.

Lance blinks down at the water, then looks back at Hunk. "Who's been piloting Blue?"

"No one." Hunk gives a small shrug of his shoulders. "You weren't dead, and Blue wouldn't let anyone else bond with her. She managed to form Voltron with us, and we've been doing okay like that, despite the handicap of her not technically having a pilot.'

Lance holds the water pouch dumbly in his hands for a while, turning it over and over, a physical representation of the thoughts that are turning over and over in his mind. He feels sick, broken inside, like maybe _he's_ the thing that's not real here, rather than the rest of the world around him. He takes a few small sips from the water, more to please Hunk than because he actually feels thirsty, then he leans down and sets the little pouch on the floor by his feet.

When he sits back upright he can't see straight, but it's not from panic this time, or from the lingering effects of cryo. His vision is watery, and when he blinks he feels tears start to roll down his cheeks. That sensation alone is enough to rip a heavy sob from his chest. 

Hunk's arms come around him once again, then Lance is being pulled in against a wide, strong chest. A moment later Hunk is lying back on his bed, head on the pillow, with Lance held tight on top of him. Heavy hands rub at his back, and at his hair, as Lance cries tear stains into Hunk's uniform.

"I missed you." Hunk just barely whispers, like he's not sure if he should be saying that at all, and Lance's heart _breaks_.

He doesn't care that he's still eighteen and that Hunk is now in his thirties, he doesn't care that Hunk hasn't seen him in thirteen years, while Lance feels like they were just in the thick of battle together. He hates this, and he wants to not feel like this right now.

Lance lifts himself up a bit with one hand on the bed beside Hunk's head. He hovers over him for a few seconds, searching Hunk's gaze as well as he can with his own eyes all red and teary. Then he leans down and kisses Hunk as hard as he can.

At first Hunk doesn't respond besides going tense, his hand stopping its glide along Lance's back. Lance wonders if this is invasive, if maybe Hunk _has_ someone now, someone who is not _him_. Or if maybe it's just too weird. Or maybe Hunk got over him in those thirteen years. But then Hunk's hand tightens in Lance's hair, the other putting gentle pressure on Lance's back to guide him closer against his chest.

The kiss is slow and deep, and Hunk kisses just like he used to: earnestly and full of care for his partner, letting Lance guide the forward momentum, and responding when he feels it's appropriate. The only real difference that Lance notices is the scratch of heavy stubble against his upper lip, and against his palm when he reaches to cup Hunk's cheek.

When they part they're both breathless, gasping in tandem with one another. Lance still has his hand against Hunk's cheek, and Hunk still has his fingers tangled in Lance's hair.

"Sorry." Lance murmurs as he settles back down on top of Hunk, his head tucked up beneath Hunk's chin. "That was probably super weird for you."

"A little." Hunk slides his hand out of Lance's hair, settling both his arms loosely around Lance's middle now. "It's been a _long_ time since I kissed you. Since I kissed anyone."

Lance doesn't know what to do with the implications of that statement. A small, selfish part of him feel touched that Hunk maybe hadn't kissed anyone else in the universe after him. But the rest of him, a much bigger part of him, aches for Hunk being so lonely for so long.

"I think I need to sleep." Lance isn't sure if he actually needs to sleep, but he knows he doesn't want to move, and he can't think of anything else to do when he's wrapped up in Hunk's arms that would be, well, appropriate for their situation now. "Can I stay here, like this?"

"Of course." Hunk presses the softest kiss to Lance's hair, drawing a sigh from him.

Lance closes his eyes.

 

When Lance wakes from the cryopod he's disorientated, woozy, wobbly, and he can barely see. He can't remember _why_ he had to be put in the pod. When his legs start to give out strong arms wrap around his waist, and a familiar voice speaks gently near his ear.

"Whoa there, Lance, take it easy."

" _No_." Lance shoves himself away from Hunk, frantically looking around the room. "No this is..."

Katie - Pidge? - is there, looking _young_ and flat-chested. There's no Keith, but there's no Matt either.

"Lance. Take it easy." Hunk rests steadying hands over Lance's shoulders.

Hunk doesn't have a scar, or an eye patch, and there's no grey in his hair. Lance is so happy that he grabs Hunk by his soft cheeks and pulls him in, kissing him hard and full. Hunk's arms flail a bit out to his sides, like he's not sure where to put them while _people are watching them_. And that's fair, they haven't kissed in front of anyone else yet, but Lance doesn't care. Hunk is Hunk. Hunk is _his_ Hunk.

Lance breaks the kiss with a wet smack and looks over at Pidge, tangling his hand with Hunk's, fairly certain he will never let go of that hand. "How long was I out?"

"Thirteen days, six hours, two minutes, and three seconds. Give or take." Pidge answers, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Everything all right in here?" Shiro steps into the cryo room, Keith trailing at his elbow.

"Shiro!" Lance manages to let go of Hunk's hand so he can launch himself at Shiro, jumping up so he can throw his arms around Shiro's neck and kick his feet up in the air behind him. "You're alive!"

Shiro gives Lance a bewildered little laugh, and a gentle pat to the center of his back. "As far as I can tell anyway."

Lance hops back down onto his feet, then throws his arms around Keith's waist, squeezing tight and lifting him up an inch off the floor. "And you're not missing in space!"

"Please put me down." Keith manages to hiss out through gritted teeth, and Lance gives him an intentionally gross kiss to the cheek before settling him back down on the floor.

"What's gotten into him?" Shiro asks Hunk and Pidge as he gestures at Lance. They both shrug, and Shiro just shakes his head. "Well, I'm glad you seem to be feeling better at any rate. That was one bad fever you had. I wasn't sure you'd even be able to survive the cryo process so you could heal."

"Yeah, well, never mind that." Lance waves a dismissive hand in the air then practically skips back over to Hunk, grabbing one of his hands in both of his own. He starts tugging Hunk toward the door. "Hunk and I have some catching up to do, see you guys later!"

"Ow!" Hunk winces and laughs, staggering after Lance. "Calm down buddy, we don't have to run."

"We don't have time to waste!" Lance doesn't slow down until they make it to his room and his door is locked behind them.


End file.
